Auld Acquaintances Should Be Forgot
by cactusnell
Summary: <html><head></head>An "acquaintance" from his uni days visits Sherlock, trying to rekindle their relationship. What can Molly do? Sherlolly</html>


Dr. Molly Hooper was barely awake when her mobile phone signalled an incoming text. Already suspecting who it was texting this early on a Saturday morning, Molly was not at all surprised to read the message.

I NEED YOU. COME IMMEDIATELY - SHERLOCK

Molly waited for the inevitable second part of the missive, which she was sure would come. Sherlock Holmes never needed just her, as much as she might wish it so. Her dreams were full of murmured confessions of "Molly, I need you!" followed by passionate kisses. In reality, the words were always followed by, "Bring some toes," or "Do you have a spare liver?" As she was not a mutant, Molly would invariably relieve some poor cadaver of the requested organ and beat a path for 221B Baker Street.

BRING A SET OF SCRUBS. OR SPARE CLOTHES. - SHERLOCK

Intrigued, Molly showered, dressed, grabbed a spare set of scrubs, and headed off to satisfy her curiosity. Arriving at the flat on Baker Street, she was amazed to find the detective down on his hands and knees, evidently cleaning the floor in his kitchen. Sherlock never scrubbed! The smell of ammonia hang in the air, and she noticed that the floor looked more damaged than dirty.

"Something go wrong with an experiment, Sherlock?" she inquired in a cheery voice, but it seems he was not in the mode for cheer.

"Among other things, Dr. Hooper!"

"Why did you need the scrubs, then?"

"I do not need them, per se. But I believe my guest will be requiring them."

"Guest?" Molly looked around, but saw no one. Sherlock gestured toward the bedroom with a grunt. When she opened the door, Molly Hooper was greeted with a sight she neither expected, nor wanted, to see. Suddenly pale, she returned to the detective, who had slumped into his favorite chair in the sitting room.

"Sherlock, there's a naked woman in your bed."

"How observant of you, Dr. Hooper."

"Well, then. I've left the scrubs on the bed. I'll be going, then, shall I?" Molly tried to make her way to the door, but the detective grabbed her wrist to prevent her departure.

"No, stay, Molly. I sure my 'friend' would like to meet you." Sherlock studied her face. She hadn't blushed. Or winced. She merely stood there, expressionless. "Aren't you at all curious?"

Molly replied in a resigned tone, "About what? Why she's in your bed? Or why she would want to meet me?"

Before he could respond, the woman opened the bedroom door and, wrapped only in a sheet and clutching the scrubs, strolled languidly into the sitting room. Looking the pathologist up and down appraisingly, she said,"You must be Molly." Then, turning her eyes to Sherlock Holmes, she continued, "Not what I expected, Sherlock. Except for the hair. I see you still have a fetish for long hair." She then added with a snicker, "Perhaps I shouldn't have cut mine, then."

Molly considered that turnabout was fair play, so she met the appraising stare of the other woman, taking in her appearance. She was tall, blond, with generous breasts, full, plump lips, and green eyes. And quite beautiful. Everything that Molly was not.

Sherlock interrupted the staring contest by saying, "Dr. Molly Hooper, may I present Miss Valerie Styles, an acquaintance from my university days. Miss Styles, Dr. Hooper."

"An acquaintance, Sherlock, really, is that what we're calling it now?" the blonde smirked.

"That is the only thing I ever considered it to be, Valerie."

"Perhaps, Sherlock. And, back in the day, you must admit that you had a rather wide circle of...er...acquaintances!"

"That bears no connection to my current life, Valerie. And don't you need to dress?" Sherlock practically spat out the words, and Molly could see that his face had become rather flushed, whether from anger or embarrassment, she could not tell.

"I need to shower again, Sherlock. And I would love to become more acquainted with your Molly! You've told me so very little about her, beyond the essentials. Perhaps we should get together aand compare notes?" The comments were obviously addressed to the detective with the intention of increasing his discomfort.

"Compare notes about what, Miss Styles?" Molly asked, as much to distract her from Sherlock as to satisfy her own curiosity.

"Well, the obvious, of course. Technique. Stamin. Does he still…"

"Enough, Valerie! Don't you have something better to do?" Sherlock cut her off, coldly.

"Well, maybe later, then. Perhaps we could meet for lunch?"

"Molly is unavailable!"

Valerie smiled in an unfriendly manner, and turned to walk into the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, Molly turned to her friend, hands on hips, and said, "Just what the hell was that all about, Sherlock?"

"Valerie showed up here last night, totally unexpected. She said she needed help with an experiment. Looking back now, it does seem highly unlikely, as she is an excellent chemist. She actually makes her living producing various new chemical intoxicants, mostly, is not totally, illegal. I suspect the 'experiment' last night was simply to establish a way to remove her clothes without my having to ask. She spilled some of the substance onto herself, and my floor, as you can see. Rather corrosive stuff, really. Rather impressive. It burned through the fabric of her clothing in record time. She stripped rather quickly, then ran for the shower. If I hadn't been suspicious before, I certainly was when she repeatedly invited me to join her." He looked Molly in the eye as he said, "Which I certainly did not!"

"Why not? You evidently have a history. And she is very attractive."

"She looked considerably different at uni, Molly. The breasts are new, apparently, as are the lips. Her hair wasn't quite so blonde, as I recall…"

"Next you'll be telling me she wasn't quite as tall...", Molly had to add, sensitive about her own lack of height.

"Don't be ridiculous, Molly, she has hardly had a growth spurt at her advanced years!"

"What was she talking about, or hinting about, Sherlock? Lots of acquaintances, eh?"

Sherlock had the good grace to look somewhat abashed at her question. "Do I really have to address that issue? Surely you can deduce what she was getting at…"

"Yes, you git, I can indeed deduce her meaning. But you owe me an explanation, after calling me over here to put up with this crap!"

The detective heaved a sigh of resignation, and spoke, "I'm not overly proud of my days at uni, Dr. Hooper. I was bored. And you know what happens when I get bored."

"Yes, Sherlock, I am aware of what happens. So you experimented…"

"Yes. You know, of course, about the drugs…" At this he unconsciously rubbed his cheek, as if feeling her slaps all over again. "But there were other things…"

"From Miss Styles comments, I'm guessing sex?" Molly asked, as she tried to keep her mind from wandering. Sherlock Holmes was, by any standard, a very attractive man. She can only imagine how utterly adorable he had been in his university days. Even with his acerbic personality, he must have been popular. Very popular, indeed. And given the added inhibition lowering effects of the drugs, she might even venture to call him wildly popular! _Oh, my god, why didn't I go to his university_, Molly cursed the gods of chance!

"Yes, Dr. Hooper, sex! And drugs!" He threw his hands in the air. ""I never did get into rock and roll, though, there being very little room in the genre for a classical violinist." His attempt at humor must have had some success, for he noticed Molly trying to suppress a small smile. "I soon decided that I had room for only one serious addiction, however, and I chose drugs. Less complications. Less personal involvement. It seems my decision came as quite a disappointment to some people…"

"I would imagine half of the female population of the institution, Sherlock!"

"You flatter me, Molly." He shrugged, but did not contradict her. "Evidently Miss Styles was one of these people. She came here last night, hoping to revive our...er..acquaintance. I told her I was not interested. Trying to be gentle, to let her down more easily, I implied that it had nothing to do with her…"

"The old 'it's not you, it's me' line!"

"Yes. Does that ever really work, by the way?"

"Not often. Her response?"

"She continued with her campaign, only now she had no clothes on…"

"Awkward!"

"Considerably so. So I told her I have a 'girlfriend'. One who knows how to wield a scalpel, and who worked rather closely with Scotland Yard, as do I, hoping to deter her a bit due to her rather illicit production of intoxicating agents. I may have mentioned your name…"

"May have, you git? She called me by name before we were introduced!" Molly was both flattered, and angry, that he had bandied her name about in this manner. "So, what was her reaction?"

"She wanted to know if you'd be interested in a threesome."

Molly punched his arm with all the force she could muster. "You must have been really good for her to be so desperate, after all these years, to repeat the experience. Maybe you chose the wrong addiction!"

This rather bizarre conversation was brought to an abrupt end when Valerie Styles exited the bath, fully clothed and neatly coiffed.

"Sherlock, dear, have you broached the subject of my request? Perhaps your Molly is interested…"

"Miss Styles, not only am I not interested now, but I see no possibility of interest in the near, or distant, future. Sherlock is quite enough for me, as I am sure you may be aware from your own experience. Furthermore, I am rather the jealous sort. I do not share. So I would like to point out that I am a forensic pathologist and coroner. I know how to deal with dead bodies. How to make the dead. And how to dispose of them after I do so. I suggest you bear this in mind if you ever feel tempted to visit my boyfriend in the future!" Molly could see Sherlock wince at her use of the term 'boyfriend'. _Serves him right_, she thought!

Valerie Styles smiled, trying to appear more unflustered than she was, and quickly crossed the room to retrieve her coat from the couch where she had left it the previous evening. "Perhaps you two are well matched after all. Sherlock was always rather good with a cutting remark, too!"

And with that she swept out of his door, and hopefully out of his life, forever.

"Thank you, Molly," Sherlock said sincerely as he flopped back down in his chair. "I think you may have frightened her off permanently."

"Just to be clear, Sherlock. Are any more of your former, er, acquaintances likely to show up? Should I carry a scalpel with me at all times to fend off your jealous admirers?"

"That may be a bit extreme, Molly. Just keep your eyes open." Sherlock teased.

"Sherlock, has this sort of thing happened before? Seriously?"

"Have I ever been approached by a woman seeking to renew our 'acquaintance'? It's happened, but not often." Sherlock seemed embarrassed by the admission. "Valerie was, by far, the most aggressive."

"Does my name come up often?"

"On occasion, Molly, but only when absolutely necessary, I assure you!"

Molly decided, _What the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound!_ She decided to be every bit as aggressive as Miss Valerie Styles.

"Perhaps you need someone to run interference for you, Sherlock. To ward off such intruders…"

"You know, Dr. Hooper. The same thought has recently occurred to me. Additionally, I have been rethinking my choice of addictions, drugs having not worked out all that well. Perhaps addiction itself is not the problem. Perhaps I should have gone with my second choice. Would it really be such a problem, if there is a readily available supply of the addictive element…"

"Perfectly legal, and with no detrimental side effects, aside from the occasional element of sleep deprivation. I like where you're going with this, Mr. Holmes!"

"I should hope so, Molly. It would require you to me my 'dealer', as it were…"

"If we're lucky, we can become co-dependents…"

"Two addicts living happily ever after. I suppose I could adjust to that." Sherlock then reached up to grab the pathologist's wrist and pull her to his lap. "When can I have my first fix, Molly?"


End file.
